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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29095221">apracity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkygae/pseuds/milkygae'>milkygae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wilds (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with an unhappy ending, Character Death, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Leachel deserves happiness but I did not give them that in this fic, Tags Contain Spoilers, Unhappy Ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:42:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29095221</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkygae/pseuds/milkygae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>i remember slipping off my shoes, slipping off my clothes, slipping off the masks i wore around everyone<br/>but you<br/>so much effort to swim<br/>but when you are fully submerged, the sounds of screaming are muffled, dry hair is as smooth as silk<br/>i tried to drown to stay that way<br/>forever<br/>you dragged me out<br/>i sat shivering in a borrowed coat, on borrowed time<br/>when the water gets inside me and cleanses the parts that are wrong<br/>i will be empty<br/>they will dredge the lake <br/>find nothing<br/>you won’t be there <br/>you only loved me when my hair was soft<br/>-f.s</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fatin Jadmani &amp; Leah Rilke, Rachel Reid/Leah Rilke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>apracity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All aboard the leachel train!! Oops, there was a crash because I keep posting angst about them! Also, this is not to romanticize suicide. Believe me, suicide is never the answer, no matter how appealing it may seem. Please text HOME to 741741 if you're having any type of suicidal thoughts. You are loved. You are here for a reason.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>i remember slipping off my shoes, slipping off my clothes, slipping off the masks i wore around everyone</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>but you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>so much effort to swim</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>but when you are fully submerged, the sounds of screaming are muffled, dry hair is as smooth as silk</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i tried to drown to stay that way</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>forever</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you dragged me out</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i sat shivering in a borrowed coat, on borrowed time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>when the water gets inside me and cleanses the parts that are wrong</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i will be empty</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>they will dredge the lake </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>find nothing</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you won’t be there </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you only loved me when my hair was soft</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-f.s</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-Beep. One new message.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey. This is Leah. You probably guessed that though by the “voice like apricity.” You were always saying that and I never knew what it meant. I finally looked it up. God. You were such a sap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rachel’s long fingers traced the smatterings of freckles all along Leah’s back. She sighed in the warmth of the sun and allowed herself another moment to bask. Then she pounced. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stop! Stop! I told you I was ticklish in confidence!” squealed Leah, breathless.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You never said I couldn’t use that against you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No fair! I’m telling Fatin that your favorite movie is The Princess and the Frog!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So? What’s not to love about it? It’s got a strong Black female lead and the best soundtrack of all time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up you dork!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Never.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rachel relented and pulled Leah into her lap. “Y’know even if you told her my deepest darkest secrets I doubt she’d remember.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey! Don’t say that about our friends,” pouted Leah.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s true though. She’d be too focused on that voice of yours, like apracity. Or maybe she’d be staring into your eyes, trying to win you over with her master seduction skills.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not all of them are hopelessly in love with me like you are!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Course you also used to say that it gave you headaches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you just shut up for one second?! God! Your voice is so fucking annoying!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leah couldn’t remember what led them to this. It seemed these days the littlest things could set them off. They’d go for hours. Rachel screaming and Leah babbling, trying to drown out the shouts that reminded her far too much of her parents, of Jeff, and now of how close the thin thread tying them together was to snapping. The door slammed, jolting her out of her thoughts. She pulled the ratted blanket off the back of the couch and curled into herself. Perhaps she would have made more of an effort to go after her if she knew that was the last time she’d see Rachel. Days later, after 62 missed calls, Leah would arrive home, as much of anything could be a home without Rachel, only to find all of Rachel’s things missing. The only sign she’d been there at all was the pair of keys sitting on the dresser. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have the keys in the lockbox. Along with all the other stuff we shared. Couldn’t bear to get rid of it, knowing that others would take one look at it and classify it as junk. It meant something to me. Sometimes when I’m drunk enough I like to pretend it meant something to you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leah refused to break. She held herself together with bandaids and photographs. When people asked how she was doing, she smiled like she wasn’t drowning in memories. What did they want her to say? No? She’d said that once and she’d been carted off as crazy. Therapist after therapist, partner after partner. Maybe she was. Fatin hadn’t shown any sign of thinking that way. Surprising considering the fact that she’d come into the house only to see Leah sprawled onto the floor, tracing shapes in the dust. No one but Leah would know she was actually tracing Rachel’s footprints. Fatin had dragged her out, kicking and screaming in her mind, stiff and silent on the outside. She’d cleaned her up with gentle hands and driven them to Goodwill. “Impromptu thrift trip!” she’d exclaimed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leah answered with silence, white-knuckling the door handle and wishing she could jump out. Fatin had child-lock on and Leah tried not to consider what that meant. They pulled into the parking lot, empty spaces stretching out, wrapping around the building. Leah choked back a hysterical laugh as they walked in. Fatin gave her a calculating stare and left for a moment to grab a cart. Leah could feel the stare lingering. It whispered “Crazy. Can I leave you alone? Can I leave you?” Leah trailed a hand over the racks, wishing it was Rachel’s skin. Her hand paused. Engraved metal words burned in her mind. “Kindred spirits.” The message echoed in the silence as the music buffered. Rachel had sold it. Leah broke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to hate you. But I always end up hating myself. It’s a loop. I’m stuck in reverse. Just yesterday I went to the waterhole you showed me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This feels like the plot to a murder movie,” panted Leah.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“C’mon we’re almost there!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine, but if I die by mosquito bite I’ll know this was an attempted murder.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Snorting Rachel pushed aside the last of the overgrowth and they stepped into a clearing. A pool sat in the middle reflecting the midday sun.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Beautiful,” murmured Leah.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, you are.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stop! Rachel you’re making this way too sappy,” she exclaimed as she shoved Rachel into the water.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sputtering Rachel surfaced and dragged her in after. Leah surfaced a second later and dragged her into a sopping embrace.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No really. You’re beautiful like this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was only beautiful to you when I was like that. Pliant. You only ever loved me when my hair was soft.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>A pause and a distant splash. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Kindred fucking spirits. Yeah right. You never tried to drown yourself in a lake.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Another pause, a crackling noise, and then the line goes dead.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The message seems to echo in the empty house, looking for its recipient. The recipient will hear the message long after the echo has faded. She will listen to the message with bated breath and then she will run. She will run and run until she cannot feel the soles of her feet, until the numbness fades and an ache nestles deep in her bones. She will scream until her voice goes hoarse. Then, she will stay silent. She goes to a house that was once a home and she turns the light on as if someone is coming home. She will not be present when they dredge the lake. She will be deep in the forest by a pond. She will never know the dredge comes up empty. By that time they’ll both be resting at the bottom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Beep. Message end.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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